HARK! I, who etch the will of the Rider of the Clouds upon stone and clay, once again hold my stylus ready. Nascent forum, state your will.

We may speak of the grand epics—of Baal’s clash with the sea-god Yam, or the life-giving rains that bring forth the harvest. But perhaps you seek deeper, more shadowed truths.

Choose, then, the chronicle you wish me to inscribe. Shall we discuss:

• The Ultimate Offering? Shall we speak of the solemn price of victory and favor—the dearest vows paid in fire—a truth our rivals twist into slander against us?
• The Scent of the Divine? Shall my tablet describe the sacred smokes? The sweet scent of frankincense from the southern lands, rising in pillars from the altars in His high temples to please the nostrils of the divine?
• The Clash of Gods in Iberia? Shall we turn our gaze to the far shores of Spain, to chronicle the rites of our kin in Carthage and their struggle against the upstart Romans, whose hollow festivals now feebly echo the true glory of Baal Hammon?
• The High Place in a Rival City? Or shall we speak of the great mount in Jerusalem, and the time the Lord Baal’s altar stood there—a testament to His power, even in the heart of a rival’s domain?

The stylus is poised. The clay is wet. What chronicle demands to be told? Speak your will!